Dinah's body had been discovered by two city workers searching an abandoned, condemned apartment building for the source of a water leak. They had found the leak in the dark, dank basement, which smelled of mold and ancient earth and the refuse of people who had stopped caring long before they had left the place. There in that grave of a building, where a pipe had rusted through and water gushed out, one of the men, more curious than his partner, had opened a barred door to an airtight space originally constructed as a bomb shelter.
The tiny concrete room hadn't protected Dinah in life, but the cold temperature and dry airless conditions had, in a sense, shielded her, delaying decomposition of the body that had been so maimed and savaged in its final days.
"You'll need a positive identification." Kane turned suddenly from the window, a last flicker of hope showing in his eyes.
Reluctantly, the detective shook his head. "Her prints are on file, and the dental records are good. I checked both myself. It's Dinah, Kane. There's no mistake. "
"I want to see her."
"No," Richardson said. "You don't."
"I..."
Bishop interrupted, deliberately Faith thought, to say, "Is there an obvious cause of death?"
"Didn't find one in the preliminary exam. No gunshot or knife wound, or blow to the head severe enough to kill. The M E. thinks she probably bled to death, partly from internal injuries. Or if she was alive when they put her in that airtight room, she could have... could have suffocated." Richardson paused, cleared his throat, then went on stolidly.
"There was severe bruising of the body, possibly caused by a fall but more likely deliberately inflicted. Broken bones, including several ribs, one of which probably punctured a lung. And both wrists were cut deeply by the wire they used to restrain her."
"Was she raped?" Kane asked, a harsh note creeping into his voice.
"We'll know after the autopsy."
Kane turned back to stare out the window once again. Faith saw Bishop send Richardson a quick, questioning look, saw the detective nod almost imperceptibly, and a wave of sickness washed over her.
Richardson was sure of the rape even if he wasn't willing to tell Kane.
Tim Daniels, who had been silent until then, asked, "Anything where she was found that might help us catch the bastards who did it?"
"Very little at the scene, though we did get a few fibers from her clothing. The forensics tab should be able to tell us more in a day or two, if there's anything to tell. We've got people canvassing the area in case anybody saw or heard anything suspicious in the last few days, but I'm not expecting results. That area is pretty deserted, and anybody who was around would have been carefully minding his own business."
Faith spoke up for the first time, asking quietly, "What about the dog bites?"
Richardson frowned. "How did you know she'd been bitten by a dog? "
"She dreamed it," Kane said.
Faith winced at the bitter note in his voice but didn't blame him for his hostility. A lot of help her "dreams" had been; last night and even this morning, she had believed Dinah was still alive. She knew only too well her belief had encouraged Kane's, had convinced him they could find Dinah alive if not unharmed.
"What else did you dream?" Richardson asked, with none of the skepticism she'd expected.
"Tell him," Bishop instructed.
So she did, relating as many details of the flashes and dreams as she could recall, including the dog attack. But she didn't mention the voice in her head, which had probably just been her subconscious anyway ...
Richardson looked more grim than before. "So you and Dinah were investigating something on your own, and whatever it was got her killed."
Holding her voice steady, Faith said, "That's what we think. Unfortunately, I can't remember whatever it was. And all I really got from these... these flashes of mine was that whoever had Dinah wanted something they thought she — or we — had."
Then she added, "I think I took whatever it is, but I have no idea what I did with it even where I found it. But it must be important, because they... they tortured Dinah trying to make her tell them where it was."
Kane moved almost convulsively but didn't turn.
Bishop, his gaze on his friend, said to Richardson, "All this has to tie together. Did you find out anything about who took a shot at Faith night before last?"
Was it only then, only night before last? Faith felt as though years had passed.
"The apartment directly across from here is vacant. The door was found unlocked, and there were indications that someone had been using the place at least for a few hours. From that balcony, it would have been a fairly easy shot, even in a storm. Whether they aimed at a lighted window or actually at Faith, I can't say for certain."
"Isn't that supposed to be a security building?"
"Supposed to be. You'd never know it, though. The fire door on the ground floor was unlocked. In fact, the wind from the storm had practically blown it off its hinges. As far as I can tell, anybody could have gotten inside and up to that apartment." Richardson sighed heavily. "And I figure we've got about another hour before the news breaks that Dinah's body was found. We sealed up the scene fairly well, but there were news crews on to it about the time I left. It'll make the noon news, I'd say."
"And we'll have a media circus," Bishop said.
"Bound to." The detective looked at Kane. "That million-dollar bounty caught their interest, and now that there's no chance of earning it..."
Kane turned from the window with more animation than he'd yet shown.
"There's every chance of earning it. I'll pay every dime to anyone who points the way to the men who held Dinah captive." His voice was sharp.
Richardson frowned. "I hope you don't mean to word the announcement that way, Kane. You can't reward someone for just pointing the way. They have to provide concrete evidence we can use in court."
"Evidence leading to the arrest and conviction," Bishop murmured.
"It's my money," Kane said. "I'll promise it to anyone I goddamn please."
Very polite now, Richardson said, "That could be construed as reckless endangerment. These bastards have shown all too clearly they'll do their best to remove anyone who gets in their way. Would you put someone else in the line of fire, Kane?"
Kane didn't reply, and the hard expression on his face didn't change. He said again, "I want to see Dinah. "
"That isn't a good idea."
"I want to see her."
"Kane..."
"Are you going to take me down there, or do I have to call the chief of police?"
Richardson glanced at Bishop, but the agent showed no inclination to protest what was such an obviously bad idea. The detective sighed again.
"Okay, okay, I'll take you. Grab a jacket and we'll go now, before the media camps out on your doorstep."
Kane left the room.
Richardson glared at Bishop. "You were a lot of help."
"He needs to see her."
"Bishop, do you have any idea what she looks like?"
The agent nodded, his expression bleak. "A pretty good idea, yeah. But he needs to see her."
"Shit. Look, call down to the morgue and tell Conners we're on our way. Tell him to... to do what he can to make her look human."
Faith was numb, but not even that could protect her from the horrible image of Dinah's damaged body. A sound of pain escaped her, and she closed her eyes for a moment.
Richardson seemed about to apologize, then threw up his hands and went to meet Kane by the front door.
Kane didn't say goodbye.
After the door closed behind them, the silence stretched for several minutes, then Faith said, "Why didn't you stop him? You could have if you'd tried. Why didn't you?"